Camille Darcy's Diary
by Ten Ticket Thrill Ride
Summary: Camille Darcy is Bridget Jones's daughter, trying to surivive life with her slutty perfect sister, her boycrazy best friend, a boy hopelessly in love with her, and trying not to fall in love with Daniel Cleaver's son! part 7 is up
1. January 1

Disclaimer: I DO NOT, repeat DO NOT, own Bridget Jones. This is just a sequel to the sequel Bridget Jones: The Edge Of Reason. (Good movie go see it.) This is set 17 years later and Bridget and Mark have two daughters: Pamela (17) and Camille (15). Camille is the star of this story. Also, I'm American, but I say a really mean comment about people counting carbs/calories. I'm really sorry if you're one of them, but that's what I think and if you don't like it, well then screw you.

_January 1, 12:23 AM_

Balcony of this really fancy place

Name: Camille Darcy. Age: 15, will be 16 this July. Weight: 120 lbs. Hair Color: dark brown with pink streaks. Number of piercings: 7. Number of times I've pissed off my parents in the last 24 hours: 2 Alcoholic beverages secretly consumed: 2

What a total bore the year has been. Mum and Dad drag me and Pamela to another stupid formal party. But this year, Mum finally broke Dad down and I'm officially allowed to wear a strapless dress. It's black and it goes down to my knees. Mum thinks I look wonderful. Dad's afraid I'll turn into a complete whore. Sorry Daddy, you already have one in the family and her name is Pamela. Oh God, how I loathe her. She gets all the guys and she's popular and pretty and grr how I hate her. She's the reason why every teenage girl on the planet goes on a crash diet. She's also the reason why bloody Americans count carbs and calories and don't get off their fat arses to excerise.

Grandmom's Christmas party was the worst. Like Mum says, all the world's perverts in one room disguised as close relatives. Uncle Geoffrey is the worst. Since Mum's been married, he usually gropes at my bum or Pamela's bum. And every year Grandmom tries to set Pamela and me up with some ugly bloke with retainers and an ugly sweater that their mum made them. But at least this Christmas, the guy I got was cute in that geeky Seth Cohen way. Haha Pamela. Take that and shove it up your ass.

His name is Alex McLean. He has curly brown hair and dark brown eyes. He's a grade ahead of me, but no matter. Still cute all the same.

"Alex, this is my granddaughter, Camille Darcy," Grandmom introduced. "Camille, Alex's father lives next door to us, but they're moving to London. Alex is transferring to your school after winter break."

"Oh dear God, I hope he survives," I replied. Alex raised an eyebrow and Grandmom gave me a look of pure shock.

"Well, what can I say? It's a freaking private school where everyone wears a freaking uniform. Half the girls are sluts and all the guys are looking for some action," I explained.

"And the other half of the girls?" Alex questioned.

"Well," I started, listing all the groups with my fingers, "There's the virgins waiting till they're married, there's the girls who are considered butt-ugly or geeky, and then you have me and my friends."

"And what are you considered?"

"Well, to my sister and her perfect friends, I'm a future spinster because I've never had a boyfriend in my life. But to my classmates, I'm either a waiting virgin or considered butt-ugly."

"Hmm. You have an interesting outlook on life, Darcy," Alex informed.

"You're the first to call it 'interesting,'" I stated.

"Well, you two can talk later," Grandmom replied, dragging me to the kitchen. The second the door closed, she turned into Grand-Mommy Dearest.

"What the fuck were you thinking!" she screamed.

"What?" I replied, pretending not to be aware why she was so upset.

"You know perfectly damn well what I mean!" she snapped.

Suddenly Mum and Dad burst through the door. "Don't yell at her, Mum!" Mum yelled.

"Well, I introduced her to Alex and she went off about her school," Grandmom said.

"Well, she's only fifteen. She doesn't need a boyfriend until she's thirty," Dad said.

"No, because I don't want to be single for another fifteen years!" I whined. "Besides, you let Pamela have a boyfriend when she was fourteen and he was seventeen fucking years old, for God's Sake!"

"Camille, language," Dad and Grandmom warned at the same time.

"All right. He was seventeen fucking years old for PETE'S sake!" I snapped. Mum tried not to laugh. She used to do that on Grandmom all the time. I learned it from her.

But yes. Moving away from that ugly scene. Turns out Alex thought I was funny. But it doesn't matter. I have a guy waiting for me back in London. He just doesn't know it yet.

William Cleaver. He's smooth, handsome, popular. In a word: perfect. He's got dark brown -almost black- hair, blue eyes, and he works out. Or so my best friend Grace has told me.

Oh God, all this thinking is making me thirsty. (_grabs a glass of champagne and takes a swish, then drops it onto the sidewalk below_) Oops.


	2. January 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Bridget Jones. Camille, Pamela, Will, and Alex are completely false and made-up by ME.

January 4

Study Hall

Well, winter break is over. It's Monday. Alex is here, listening to The Thrills (Good band). Will is not.

THIS SUCKS.

_C-_

You didn't tell me that Alex is HOT!

G

Well I really don't consider him that hot.

_You've done it._

Done what?

_You've gone completely crackers._

Shut up. Have not.

_Seriously, Cami, you must snag him before any of the sluts in this school realize his hotness and shag him. You have to be the first to shag him._

Uh, how about NO.

_C'mon Camille! You can so tell he'd shag you._

I don't want to do any shagging. My dad will KILL Alex...and me for doing any shagging before marriage for that matter.

_Fine. I'll shag him._

No you wouldn't. You'd be too chicken to go through with it and you'd make sure he's got a box of condoms within arms' reach.

_You ARE my best friend. Good thing, mate, you were starting to scare me._

Once again, shut up.

_Geez. Are you PMSing today or something?_

No. But you're telling me to go off and make out with a boy I hardly know. Besides, what if Will likes me?

_He'll have to fight Alex for your heart, I suppose._

What are you implying, Miss Grace?

_I think that both Alex AND Will like you, but you like them both. (And you know you do.) You'll see what they're both like, then you'll be confused and then they'll try and beat the other to a bloody pulp for your love, Cam._

That's sweet and totally false all at the same time.

_C'mon you know you'd like it. The attention that Pamela normally gets will soon be handed to you._

That is true. But then again Pamela is a whore. I'm not. She only gets the boys because they think they'll get "a piece of ass."

_They don't think. They know._

Grace! You're supposed to be my best friend! A little positive reinforcement would be nice!

_All right, all right. Geez. Boys like your sister for all the wrong reasons. Someday soon, you'll find one who doesn't just want to get you in bed. He'll love you just the way you are and wouldn't dare change a thing about it._

Thank you for fulfilling the best friend role and for not saying "shag."

_Shag shag shag. Shag shag shag. Shag your booty._

Go to hell, you little perv.

So that was our little note before the bell rang and I (literally) ran right into Will. My notebook and papers went everywhere.

"Oh! So sorry!" he apologized.

"Oh no no no. It's my fault. I should've watched where I was going," I rambled, reaching for my notebook. And, well what do you know! He reaches for it too and our hands touch! I pulled away as he handed me my notebook.

"Well, uh, nice running into you," I said as I turned to walk away.

"See ya around," Will replied. I shot him a smile and walked over to Grace.

Grace contained herself until we turned the corner. She started screaming, "Blimey, Cami! He actually talked to you!"

Sometimes I wonder if Grace has hit puberty yet. Acts very strange around any cute boy and if they talk to her, she giggles like mad. Like this past summer, I dragged her to a punk rock hangout and this one guy with a mohawk talked to her. Poor girl fainted. But Grace just needs guidance, since her smug rich parents are too busy flying off to the Caribbean to care about her needs. I'm her fucking nanny, I swear! But I love Gracie, even though she can be a little too goody-goody at times. And she's too fucking pretty. I mean, she's the perfect image of beauty. Soft, light blonde hair, icy blue eyes, fair skin, stick-thin...everything I WISH I was: A freaking real-life china doll. Maybe I could have a fucking bloke then. Look at me: Brown-and-pink hair, normal blue eyes, skinny but not in the good way, 7 piercings (both ears tripled-pierced and bellybutton pierced), and a constant curser. No fucking wonder I'm single.


	3. January 7

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I don't own Bridget Jones. Camille, Grace, Pamela, Will, and Alex are completely false and made-up by ME. And yes, those ARE all of my favorite bands and Moulin Rouge IS my favorite movie.

Thursday, January 7

Home

Jesus Christ. I completely forgot.

Winter formal is next Friday.

SHIT.

Pamela and Mum are out dress shopping. Dad has a case to work on. So I'm here, home alone, staring at my ceiling. Thankfully, I'm listening to Garbage, so it's all good.

So I'm just sitting here, staring at the ceiling, playing with my bellybutton ring, picking at my black nail polish.

Now I'm standing up, looking at myself in my mirror. I look alright. I got my uniform on. Crappy school colors: Red and gold.

What a crappy day. Alex wouldn't stop FOLLOWING ME! "Cami, do you know where this class is?" "Cami, do you know how to do problem 18?" GRRR! I could seriously kill him.

My room's nice. It has posters of all my favorite bands (The Thrills, The Clash, The Ramones, Blondie, The Killers, Death Cab For Cutie, Dashboard Confessional, Garbage, The White Stripes, The Von Bondies... I could go on.) There's a bulletin board filled with pictures of me, my mates, my family, and Goldie Darcy (our golden retriever doggie) and there's a movie poster of Moulin Rouge on the back of my door. I love that fucking movie. Not Dad though. He thinks I'll go off and become a slut. Like I said, you already have a slut. (cough cough PAMELA.)

The view from my window is nice too. If I stick my head out and look down, I can spit on people and slip back in without them knowing how spit on them. But if I squint, I just barely see Big Ben.

My phone is ringing. It's...Alex?

WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS HE DOING CALLING MY HOUSE! I have no choice but to pick up.

15 Minutes Later

I am SUCH a bitch.

OK, Alex calls and I pick up. "What the bloody hell do you want?"

"Um. I just needed to ask you a question."

"Well, hurry up, I have to walk out the door."

"Do you know if Grace has a date to winter formal?"

I almost drop the phone. "I don't think she does."

"Oh. OK. Good."

"Why?"

"No reason."

"Bullcrap. You call her best friend to see if she's not taken for the formal. Explain. Now."

"Well, I really wanna go with her."

"That's all you needed to say. I have to go."

"OK. See ya."

Click.

DAMN IT.

Suddenly, Grace calls.

"Hey!" she says in a perky tone.

"Hey, um, you know what just happened?"

"What?"

"Alex called me. He wanted to know if you had a date to winter formal."

I had to pull the phone away from my ear because Grace squeals, "OH MY GOSH, REALLY!"

"No, he wants to shag my brains out."

"No sarcasm, please."

In a happy, Martha Stewart tone, I answer, "But sarcasm is what makes me Cami."

"If I was there with you, I'd slap you square across the face."

"I love you too, Gracie."

"Now, Camille Alicia Darcy, tell me now, was he being serious?"

I roll my eyes. "Grace Kelly Schlegel, of course!" After I tell her this, I know she is doing a "happy dance" after I tell her this. So I reply, "I'll let you dance, see you."

Immediately after this, the doorbell rings. So I go up to the door and there's some guy standing there, like he just got off work. He's decked out in a business suit, but no jacket, tie loosened, and sleeves rolled up.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask.

"Daniel Cleaver," the man responds.

"Aren't you Will Cleaver's dad?" I question, my eyes wide.

"Yes, I am. Why?"

"I go to school with your son. I'm in his grade."

Daniel nods. He then looks up and asks, "Is your mother home?"

"No. Why?"

He doesn't answer.

"Why?" I repeat, getting really irritated now.

"I just wanted to see how she was, that's all," he replies.

"She's fine and happily married, thanks," I answer in a cold tone. "Now get the hell off our property before I call the bobbies."

Mum and Pam pull up in the driveway. Mum is fuming. She stomps over, slaps him across the face, and demands, "What the hell are you doing here!"

Me? I'm cheering Mum on. "Nice job, Bridget!"

Daniel, while holding his cheek, asks in disgust, "She calls you by your first name? How lower class."

"Hey buddy, that is her name. Bite me," I respond.

Mum says to me, "Not now," gets this look in her eyes, like she's going to strangle him. "You get off my property right now."

He walks away, looking back at Mum every once in a while. I'm tempted to flick the bastard off.

Mum storms inside while Pamela and I are watching, like it's all an addicting teen soap opera. Mum calls Dad, the whole time whispering "Pick up, pick up, pick up."

Finally Dad picks up and Mum starts screaming. "Mark! Do you know who was just here, talking to Cami? Daniel Cleaver! Mark, Cami's a strong girl, she was telling him off the best she could. Yes, of course, I slapped him!" At this point, I knew Dad said "That's my girl," because then Mum blushes and goes, "Aw, thank you, sweetie."

Pamela hollers, "Who the hell is Daniel Cleaver?"

Mum tells her to hang on while I tell her, "Do you know who Will Cleaver is?"

Mum gasps, "Oh my God, he has a son? No, Mark, Daniel has a son. I know! He finally screwed up. You're on your way home? OK sweetie. Love you."

Pamela, not fazed by Mum, replies, "Yeah, that little Hugh Hefner wannabe?"

I nod. "That's his dad."

Mum slams the phone down as I repeat Pam's earlier question, "Who the hell is Daniel Cleaver?"

Mum sighs and replies, "He used to be my boss...and my ex-boyfriend. But that was before I went out with your father. Actually, your father was married to another woman and Daniel, who used to be his best friend, stole him from him."

"But then Dad married you, right?" Pam asks.

Mum gives her the look I give Grace whenever she asks a stupid question. "No, Pamela, you and your sister are just love children."

I shrug. "Cool. I don't mind that."

Mum just shakes her head. Fifteen minutes later, Dad barges in and goes straight to me.

"Did you talk to him?" he asks.

I nod.

"What did he want?"

"He asked how Mum was and I said fine and told him to get the hell off our property."

Dad gives me a 100 pound bill and a pat on the shoulder. "Good girl."

I smile and walk away. Daniel Cleaver should pester Mom more often.


	4. January 9

I LOVE YOU GUYS! THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! FanFiction wasn't taking my copies and I've been working on other FF stuff. So thank you!

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I don't own Bridget Jones. Camille, Grace, Pamela, Will, and Alex are completely false and made-up by ME.

Saturday, January 9

Grace's House

Will completely adores my mother and me now. Very weird.

He walks up to me on Friday and asks, "I heard my father was over at your house and your mother slapped him across the face."

I shrug. "Maybe."

Will says, "Well, your mother has the guts to do something I have wanted, but never been able to do my entire life."

I raise an eyebrow. "Uh, thanks?"

"Also, did you tell him 'bite me'?"

This, I am not ashamed about. "Hell yeah."

Will wraps an arm around my shoulders and says, "You and your mother are my heroes."

"Uh, thanks?" I repeat as we walk off to lunch. Grace, in shock, follows, so happy that someone popular and cute actually talked to us. Alex isn't too happy, so I turn around and wave to him.

All because my mum and I told his father to fuck off.

So Will and his friends find us charming. They think Grace is God's greatest masterpiece. So naturally, all of the water polo blokes think she's the queen. Will, oddly enough, pays attention to me.

"So, I always see you scribbling in that black notebook of yours," Will mentions, pointing to this, my little black book filled with drawings and writings.

I shrug. "It's just how I get through."

Will asks, "Can I see it?"

"No." I then feel horrible and explain, "It's not that I don't trust you, no one's seen it. Not even Grace and I've known her since I was five. It's just really personal... kinda like a diary, but not really..." I trail off, because I'm making no sense whatsoever.

Will nods. "No, no. I get what you mean."

I add, "Also, someone like you might think it's weird. I mean, you're talking to a girl with pink in her hair, wears black eye makeup, and wears combat boots to school."

Will shrugs. "Doesn't bother me. I think it's cool to be different."

I let my sharp tongue get the best of me and go, "Yeah right. You're Mr. Popularity. You tease people who like to be different." Immediately upon saying this, I apologize and stuff my mouth with Tater Tots. As if that could save me now.

Will gives me a look and says, "That's the problem with you. You don't give people like me and my friends a chance."

I glare at him and snap, "Well I have every right to! I've seen what you've done to people! You tease them because you think you're better than them or because they're 'different' and that's just horrible."

Will doesn't say anything for a minute, then mumbles something under his breath.

"What?" I ask.

"I'm sorry," he replies.

I tell him. "Just be nicer to people and maybe you'll be on my good side." He gives me the slightest hint of a smile. I smile back as I repeat, "Maybe."

Then, the queen bee attacks.

There's something you should know about Daphne Redmond: She is a slutty, spoiled little rich girl and people fear her. Seriously. And she thinks she owns Will, just because they made out once behind the gym. Also, she hates people like me, who want to be "different." Therefore, everyone hates her guts.

"William!" she snaps.

We all look over. Grace rolls her eyes and says in a really sarcastic tone, "God save the queen bee."

I try not to laugh. She has been hanging out with me way too long!

Daphne looks up at Will and me, due to the fact that we are sitting on the high ledge of a garden box in the middle of the quad.

"Bugger off, Daphne, I'm trying to hang out with someone interesting," Will tells her.

"You mean this fat cow?" she snaps.

OK, I may be a little chubby, but I know I'm not fat. "At least I'm not an anorexic slut," I answer nonchalantly. After I say this, I expect her to yank me down and try to beat the crap out of me. But I don't want any trouble and I say, "If you'll excuse me, I have places to go." I swing my backpack over my shoulder and tell Grace, "If you wanna hang out here, fine. I'll see you after school."

But of course, Gracie is a good best friend. She tells the guys, "I'll see you Monday!" Then she runs off to me.

"So, another dateless Saturday?" she asks.

"Your house?" I respond.

So here I am, sitting on the couch, a bowl of crisps on my stomach, watching Moulin Rouge for the millionth time. I hate it when they show it on TV, they cut out the ending and that's really retarded, in my opinion. Whenever Ewan and Nicole sing "Come What May," Grace and I always sing with them. "Seasons may change, winter to spring... but I love you, until the end of time..." Then we scream at the top of our lungs, "COME WHAT MAY! COME WHAT MAY! I WILL LOVE YOU UNTIL MY DYING DAY!"

But I watch it and I secretly envy them. How come they can find true love and I can't? Is it because I'm so different? No one really wants to go out with someone like me. Hopefully, no one reads this and sees the soft mushy side of Camille Darcy.

Oh, "Le Tango De Roxanne." I LOVE this song!


	5. January 15

Everyone who reviewed- I freakin' love you guys! I'll try and update best I can, I've been super busy lately.

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I don't own Bridget Jones. Camille, Grace, Pamela, Will, and Alex are completely false and made-up by ME.

Friday, January 15

Home 11:55 PM

I am going to KILL Alex, if I don't kill Tony FIRST! No words can describe what has happened...

So I'll write a script for it! Mwah ha ha...

(Monday, Cami is at lunch and Alex comes and sits down across from her.)

Cami: What do you want?

Alex: I was hoping you could do me a favor.

Cami: (stops eating turkey sandwich) What is it?

Alex: My friend Tony doesn't have a date to winter formal, so I was wondering...

Cami: (sighs, not knowing what she's getting into) Sure, I guess.

Alex: (grins) Awesome. We'll pick you up at seven. (He leaves.)

(Friday rolls around and Cami is wearing the same dress she wore to the New Year's Eve party, except Mum took her to the hairdresser earlier and she says she looks like a poodle.)

Cami: I look like a poodle.

Pamela and Mum: You look fine.

Dad: You know Cam, you don't have to go if you don't want do.

Cami: For once, I actually agree with you there.

Mum: No! That would be rude!

Dad and Cami: Damn it.

Dad: (hands her a cell phone) If he does anything, you call me and I'll get the Mafia on his ass before he can make an offer that they can't refuse.

(He watches The Godfather a lot.)

(Seven rolls around and everyone arrives. TONY IS ABOUT THE GEEKIEST WANKER THIS SIDE OF THE HEMISPHERE. At least he got her a nice corsage, which is now taking shelter in her garbage can.)

Tony: (stutters in a nasal voice) H-hey Camille. (His face is covered in acne. His black hair is slicked back and is so shiny that you need sunglasses to look at it. He's wearing a white tuxedo and a black button-up shirt and he has a pink flower pinned on his jacket. His pants are a little too small and you can see his high black socks.)

Cami: It's 'Cami.'

Mum: Shush! Now, smile! (takes photos)

(They go back to Alex's car and suddenly, Tony turns from nice guy to McPervert. His hand is on her leg and slowly working its way up to THAT area. She glares deadly at him.)

Cami: (in the scariest tone she can muster up) You even think about getting to third base, let alone first, I'll knock your teeth in. (Hand goes bye-bye.)

(But they get there and Will sees her.)

Will: (chuckling) Well, Darcy, it's sweet that you're working for the Charity Case.

Cami: (excuses herself from Tony and drags Will over by the pop machines) Look. I'm only with him because Alex asked me to be Tony's date.

Will: Well, you could have said you were going with me!

Cami: Yeah, and I would have been lying to one of my friends. I don't lie.

Will: (gives her a weird look that just says "You're one of the strangest girls I've met.") Well, I can respect that. You're a loyal girl.

Cami: Damn straight.

Will: By the way, you owe me one dance, all right?

Cami: (groans) Fine. (goes back to her little group)

Alex: I'll get some punch.

Tony: I'll go with you!

Cami: (under breath) Stay there, please please please.

(Fast forward to the first slow dance. Cami is standing as far away from Tony as she can be with her hands still on his shoulders. Cami is watching Will dance with a much prettier girl. The perverted side of Tony comes out again and his hand goes down the top of her strapless dress.)

Cami: (screams) YOU PERV! (slaps Tony across the face and runs out of the gym. Will follows Cami outside. She is sitting on a bench by the pop machines, stomping her corsage into the ground.)

Will: (tries to calm her down) Cami–

Cami: I am SO embarrassed!

Will: Well, it could be worse.

Cami: How?

Will: (laughs) You could have liked it.

(Cami gasps and punches Will's arm. They continue laughing. Suddenly, Will gets this look in his eyes.)

Cami: What? Do I have something on my face?

Will: Actually, there is. Right on your mouth. (Kisses her)

(What I didn't know until Grace told me later: Alex comes out just as Will leans in and kisses her. Ewan McGreggor comes in and sings "Le Tango De Roxanne" and poor Alex goes back to Gracie.)

That was my night.

**END**


	6. January 22

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I don't own Bridget Jones. Camille, Grace, Pamela, Will, and Alex are completely false and made-up by ME. And Grace's stuffy parents too, unfortunately.

Friday, January 22

Bathroom of another fancy place 8:45 PM

Well. That was interesting.

Grace's parents had a party and invited everyone this side of the Hemisphere. We went because Dad is a very good lawyer and Mum has her show, Will's parents went because they work for the Queen, and Grace's family went because... they're throwing the damn party in the first place and they're filthy stinking rich.

I barely get in the door and Will is all over me. To tell you the truth, I really don't feel like talking to him. After an hour, every person in the place is a little drunk (except for Mum; Grandma tried to get her into rehab because when Mum was sixteen, she got drunk at the infamous Christmas party and accidentally got sick all over the cheap cavier Grandma bought. So Mum tries NOT to get drunk.) I have been stealing numerous glasses of champange from the busboys or whatever they're called. So, naturally, after a while, I excuse myself to go to the loo. But instead I accidentally walk into a room where GRACE AND ALEX ARE MAKING OUT.

"OH MY GOD!" I slam the door shut. Through the door, I say, "I am SO sorry! I'm trying to find the loo!"

I fucked that up, didn't I?

So I hurry in here, splash some cold water on my face, when Grace bursts in.

"Cami! I am so sorry!"

"What for? He's your boyfriend... right?"

"I was going to tell you, Cam, I swear!"

I sigh, "No big deal." I notice something and point to her neck. "Is that a love bite?"

Grace slaps her hand over her neck. "NO!"

I put my hands on my hips. Grace sighs, "Yes. We were snogging for a while."

"I'd rather be snogging Alex right now," I say, shaking my head.

"Will troubles?" Grace guesses.

"Yeah. He's so fucking annoying! He will NOT leave me the fuck alone! It's so fucking **annoying**!"

"Well, he must be if you're saying '_fuck_' every two seconds," Grace replies. She takes a deep breath and says, "Cam, you have to promise me something."

"Yeah, anything," I tell her, concerned.

"Promise that you won't get jealous of me and Alex?" she asks.

I shrug. "Why the hell would I be jealous? I'm more embarrassed than anything..." --She gives me the death stare-- "Because I walked in on you making out."

Grace exhales deeply and goes, "Phew! Cam, I thought you would be jealous because, well, neither one of us has had a man and everyone thought you were going to get a boy first. Well, you sorta did."

"Yes, but I don't see WILL as my boyfriend," I reply.

"You're just going through a rough patch is all," Grace informs me.

I sigh. "Yeah. I mean, I am surfing the crimson wave. Sorry, too much info."

Grace chuckles, "Well, when we became best friends, I knew that you were gonna tell me everything, so this is no shock." She sees me picking at my nail polish and goes, "Cami? Are you OK?"

I nod and go, "Yeah, yeah. Hormones."

Grace gives me a hug and says, "I'm glad you're so cool with this." Then she leaves.

In reality, I am NOT so cool with this. It seems like EVERYONE has a boyfriend now. I wouldn't be shocked if Dad had one. Well, actually, I would, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT! Not v. surprising that Grace and Alex got together. She's pretty and sweet and why wouldn't she like Alex? He's smart and funny and witty... and he's got that curly and shaggy brown hair that just slightly falls in his dark brown eyes... and he's got the most kick-ass CD collection of anyone I know...

_OH. MY. GOD._

**NONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONONO!** I AM **NOT** FALLING IN LOVE WITH ALEXANDER MICHAEL MCLEAN!

**ACK**! WHY DO I KNOW HIS FULL NAME!

NO! I don't like Will! I mean, Alex! I like Alex. I mean WILL.

Gr... Lemme try this again.

I am JUST FRIENDS with Alex. Will is technically my boyfriend!

Yes! There we go!

So... why did I feel horrible when I kissed Will at the dance and found out Alex was watching?

LOVE SUCKS.


	7. January 25

Disclaimer: Just so you know, I don't own Bridget Jones. Camille, Grace, Pamela, Will, and Alex are completely false and made-up by ME. (Bikkie is a biscuit, bugger off is go away, and pissed is drunk)

Monday, January 25  
Home 6:10 PM

Grrrawr... I want to die. No, I want Alex to die. No, I want Tony and Pamela to die. Yes, that would be good.

Today, I wake up and get ready for school. I must have a "bugger off" look on my face because she asks me, "Sweetie? You OK?"

I shrug as I eat a bikkie.

"Cami. Are you having trouble with Tony?"

I choke on my bikkie. "MUM!" I cry out. "Tony was a perverted little nerd."

"Oh I'm sure-"

"He tried to get to third base on the drive there and he got to second during the dance."

Dad has a look of pure shock on his face as Pamela walks in. "Oh poor Cami. She can only get the nerdy little losers. But wait! Aren't you with Will?"

Mum looks at me and asks, "Who's Will?"

Before I can even say anything, Pamela goes, "Will Cleaver."

That stupid slag. I should throw something sharp at her later.

Mum and Dad glare at me and I know one of them is gonna say something, so I grab my knapsack and proclaim, "Cheers, everyone!" Then I run the hell out of there. I seriously think I'm off my head. I catch the Underground and get to school sort of early. I see Alex at his locker and I say, "Hullo." He closes it and walks off.

"OY!" I holler. "Alex, I'm talking to you!"

He calls over his shoulder, "Sorry, luv. Gotta see Grace."

"Don't you 'sorry, luv' me, McLean!" I snap, following him.

He whirls around and goes, "What! What in the bloody hell do you want?"

I sincerely respond, "I want to apologize."

Alex is taken aback. "Oh. What for?"

"For walking in on you and Gracie."

Alex slightly smiles and goes, "Apology accepted."

"I was a little pissed that night."

"You didn't look too pissed to me."

Now it's my turn to smile. "Thanks. But I was pissed. So... uh yeah."

Alex nods, then responds, "And...?"

I'm shocked. "And what?"

"Isn't there something else you'd like to apologize for?" he asks.

"Uh... I'm sorry you're turning into an emo kid?" I try, totally clueless.

Alex is taken aback. "God, you _are_ a bitch! Good thing you and Will are an item, you're bloody perfect for each other!"

"What the hell is your problem!" I snap.

"Tony, the dance?" he recalls.

I defend myself, "Listen, he tried to get some action and I didn't want to give any!"

"Why? Is it because he's below you?"

"NO!" I shout. People are now turned to see who yelled, but I don't give a damn. "I don't have a boyfriend and _if_ I had a boyfriend, only then would I let someone get to second base. BUT Tony is not the kind of person who I would let touch me ANYWHERE!" I then stomp away (I love my combat boots right now) as Alex hollers, "You shallow bitch!"

I flip him off.

So now I am home, staring at my ceiling, listening to Phantom Planet. It's "California" but I need some indie/emo music now, because Mum yelled at me for listening to Nirvana. They're too "whiny," she says. Whiny my arse. Kurt Cobain was passionate about his music, is that a bad thing?

6:15 PM

Alex is passionate about the music. So yes, it is a bad thing in Alex's case. I hate Alex. I hope he dies a pathetic death, like getting eaten by a super-freakishly large mutant dandelion.

6:25 PM

YES! I've told Mum what happened and she's letting me blare "Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle." I love the line:

_She comes back as fire, burns all the liars, leave a blanket of ash on the ground._

Can dear old Frannie burn Alex too while she's at it?

6:40 PM

Now listening to "All Apologies." How many times does Kurt say, "All alone is all we are?"

6:42 PM

Twenty. But I might have lost count.

7:00 PM

Alex would know that. On our casual days, he ALWAYS wears a Nirvana/Kurt Cobian shirt. I should ask him.

No, wait I'm mad at him. Well, someday when I'm not mad at him.

I'll ask Grace. He always tells her "useless music trivia" as she puts it.

It's times like those where I doubt our friendship. At least she "sorta" likes Taking Back Sunday.

7:01 PM

My life sucks.


End file.
